Merry Christmas!

Wishing everyone an awesome Christmas... May your family visits be peaceful, May Santa fill your stockings with the "just right stuff", May your day be blessed with hugs from loved ones, Kisses from even more loved ones, and Happiness all the whole day through.

Ho Ho Ho!

Desperation, Validation, Information

"Ation"-palooza, isn't it? Yeah, I got a bit carried away I suppose... I do that sometimes. Ok, to the meat of it...

Desperation:

There are many forms that desperation can take on. Anything done to extreme becomes a problem... how hard and for how long can one person pine away for something, someone, before they become... well... obnoxious? This is one of my fears. I want a baby so badly that there are days that I cannot focus on anything else. Nothing. Sometimes it's all I want to talk about... none of my close friends are in the same position as I, none of them have these intense baby urges that I have had for years. How much is too much? Do I clam up and keep it to myself? That encourages some crazies all by itself. Not to mention, completely irrational feelings of resentment that my friends/family don't understand what I'm going through (irrational mostly because how could they know if you don't/can't tell them??!)

Validation:

I frequent one particular quilt/sewing shop more than any others. So much so that they know me by name. (This is good and bad... Good because I am completely comfortable asking all sorts of retardo questions if I don't understand something... bad because I am completely comfortable asking all sorts of retardo questions if I don't understand something.)

The girls at Quilting Adventures are amazing! They are talented and smart and SO SO SO knowledgeable. Well, in past blog entries I showed pictures of my study that Mark built for me. I mentioned to Joyce (the owner) about the curtains I'd made. I have been really proud of how they turned out. Mostly because they are 100% mine... I had no pattern, no one helping me. That made me feel good. She told me to email her a picture of them. The next day I get an email saying she'd posted them on her store blog.

I know it's probably silly... but this encourages me to feel that I am on the right track with my creative side. The compliments and the comments at the end give me, yes, validation that I am good at this, maybe I am talented. It's a good thing too, sewing is a passion. (Maybe I should've written the "Desperation" portion of this blog entry about sewing... hmmmmm)

Information:

Is too much information ever a bad thing? Sometimes- I'll give you an example.

A few years back (2004? 2003?) I had been up in Towson, MD at a Medical convention. A coworker and a friend had come along. We spent an additional night at the Harbor and enjoyed some alcohol in, what some may say, excess. It was fun... but when I was back at work later that week I was just overcome with exhaustion. I could barely hold my head up. In addition, I touched my face and found that in the area right in front of my ears was swollen and hard. It was odd... so I turned toward a most trusted friend, The Internet. Specifically, WEBMD. I typed in, swollen salivary glands and guess what it told me? YOU HAVE CANCER. I had mono. But according to WEBMD I had cancer.

CANCER! How in the hell is the big C the first thing it suggests??! In what world is that a good thing to do to people??! So many people are not knowledgeable about health care or medical issues. Yet they have access to this, most terrifying and frequently hyperbole (if not 100% in accurate) information 24/7.

I've always felt that there is no such thing as "too much information", but when I think about stuff like this... the inaccuracy and imprecision of this information being available to the general public... it makes me angry.

I have more to say... but it's time to go home from work. Yeehaw.

Edited for:

Ok... I'm at home now. I guess my point of all the above was that one really has to be careful with how we use information, how we receive information, how much information we receive, what kind of information we need, process said information appropriately and learn when too much is too much. I think that this can be a very difficult process. In all seriousness, rare is the occasion that I find that I desire less information than I have. Also, I consider myself to be of high intelligence and can easily decipher good information from bad information.

I'm modest too, but that blog is for another time...

Aformentioned Loveseat and Art...

The house that Mark built...

Well... the library anyway.

Early on in our marriage it was clear that we each need our own space. Some place where we can go to relax and have our personal stuff and practice our different hobbies.

Mark is a video gamer. His room needs doors. (NOISY) My hobbies are quieter. I sew and scrapbook and other stuff like that.

I also read. I have a lot of books. A LOT. So... we turned our "formal living room" space in my library/study. Mark handmade me built in book shelves. I made curtains. We both picked out the paint, I picked out the table... now we need a love seat and some art. It's awesome.

Here's proof:

Confidential to My Mom:

(Today marks the 8th anniversary of my mom's passing. So, in her honor, I'm going to tell her 8 things I wish she knew.)

In no particular order:

1) I think about You and miss you every single day, without exception.

2) Mark. I wish you knew him. You'd love him almost as much I do, I have no doubts.

3) I'm almost done with college. I'm not making A's, but I also don't care about that. I'm almost done. YAY!

4) If I ever manage to have a child, a daughter, I am going to name her after you, Elizabeth and Mark's mom, Jewel.

5) Dad's ok. He's not perfect, but he's ok. He misses you.

6) Suzanne's doing better too. She's got a stable job, she misses you too.

7) I work hard. Two jobs. I'm still lazy, but you'd be proud.

8) I got a tattoo. I know. Dad couldn't believe it either.

If I could only time travel!

I would travel forth to a time where 1) the election was OVER. 2) My two upcoming tests were over. 3) Actually, all of school was over altogether, including the big test I have to take after all the "learning" is said and done.

Mostly though, I just want this fucking election over with. I am tired of hearing about it. I'm tired of talking about it. I'm tired of being at odds with the people around me over it. I'm tired of my opinions not being respected. Last night, my father kept putting words in my mouth. He'd say stuff like, "I know [this or that] doesn't matter to you, but...." Only I never said it didn't matter, I never said anything about it. So I kept having to say, I didn't say that dad.

oh, at one point he said, "I know you're pro-abortion..." What the fuck, Dad? When have you (or ANYONE) ever heard me say anything at all about being "Pro-Abortion"? NEVER is the right answer.

Anyway... so yeah... I can't wait until Tuesday is OVER with. O.V.E.R. And, I'm glad I have to work tuesday evening. That makes me very happy. I don't have to listen to anyone about it all day long. YAY.

Baby urges!!!

:sigh: Here we go again.

Mark and I decided that when my period starts the next time we're going to try to get pregnant again. SCARY!! To be truthful... I am terrified. Deep down inside I feel like we're meant to be parents. But on the surface I worry that I'll keep failing. I hate that. The idea of failing over and over again.

But... we can't succeed if we don't try, so... Here we go again. At least we'll get lotsa sexxin' out of it! ha.

My Life Needs Rubber Stoppers....

At one of my three day orientations for my PRN job, they gave out these stickers that you attach to the back side of your phone. The idea is that your phone won't slip off and fall and break. Theoretically, it's supposed to stop accidents.

I need something attached to me to stop accidents. Not physically... I don't go around hurting myself... but emotionally and mentally, I'd really like to stop "falling."

I guess this sounds all dramatic and pitiful and I suppose it is.... but sometimes I just feel like I'm flailing. Perhaps "rubber stopper" can be a euphemism for "Straight Jacket" in the future?

So I lost my engagement ring...

I literally went to bed one night with it and woke up without it. Literally. I got in the car and was on my merry way to work. I looked down and my rings were GONE. I turned around and drove back home. I located my wedding band on the floor at the foot of the bed. The engagement ring is GONE. It's so disappointing because the rings go together. They are unique and beautiful and precious to me. Makes me so sad.

So I put it through to the insurance company. I'm getting back a decent amount of money. But not enough to replace it. And we cannot afford to fill in the rest. (About $600 more than what we're getting... but that's $599 more than what we have extra right not.)

So... now I'm on the search for a "filler" ring. Something that I can wear and love, but that can easily be replaced (emotionally) when we can afford to get a "real" ring.

So.. bye bye dear engagement ring:

Sweetness x 2389234098324098

I make no bones about having the most magnificent husband there is to have. He's not perfect, but none of us are so that's not important. What is important is that he loves me and loves "us". He makes me feel amazing and beautiful and worthy.

Due to the increasingly unsettled economy I have taken a second job. It's a good job, easy job, and fun. But... as anything, it makes things stressful. So, to help out, make things easier... Mark has started doing the dishes. This, in and of itself, is AMAZING! Honestly, knowing I won't have to worry about it makes life easier.

On top of that, I come home and find a sheet of paper laying on my laptop with this written on it:

"No matter where I am or what I do
I'm constantly thinking of you.
I picture your face when you're away
And that's the hardest part of my day.
For when I see your face, I want to feel your touch.
And I realize I miss you so much.
It's clear to me when I sit and think
that you're the river form which I drink.
The necessity I need to life and grow
I love you and that I wan you to know."

So.. yeah, sorry girls, I got the king of men. And I'm not gonna let him go.

Quilt top!

Here's the quilt I'm working on. It's all pieced together, but I don't have the borders cut or sewn yet, obviously.

randomness dejour....

It's been a bit since I posted, a couple weeks or something... so here's some generic stuff that will probably bore you, but for posterity, it must be said.

1) School started. I hate it. I have a test on Tuesday. I am already tired.

2) Second job started. Just orientation so far. The thing about the orientation was that it was 2 whole days with a third day in a month for now. Stressful when dealing with my full time job.

At orientation a couple of interesting things happened (If you have a loose interpretation of interesting anyway.): First, why do people talk to you when you're on the toilet? I mean, I want to pee in peace. I don't want to talk to anyone, much less people I don't even know. Not just a hello, I mean continuous conversation! And how to tell strangers to STFU without actually saying STFU?! I don't know.

Another interesting thing: Frog Eye Salad. It was yummy, but I'm glad I didn't know the title of it prior to eating it.

One thing that was talked about at the orientation was "disengaged employees"... it distinguished between just being disengaged and being "actively" disengaged. I am somewhere between the two, but leaning more toward the just regular disengaged. In all seriousness, I will give the orientation credit for giving me some perspective, reminding me why I chose to do what I do. I think it helped me become a bit more focused in my full time job, so that part is very good, IMO.

3) Sewing class: I have the quilt top about 1/3rd done. I didn't feel like participating in the present-your-quilts-for-critiquing last night... so I skipped that part and told the teacher I had it all planned out already. I'm not 100% sure that's accurate, but I was moody and I'm not sure I would've handled criticism very well last night. So now I have to do it by myself. Here's to hoping I don't fuck it up, right?

4) I am on-call this weekend. I have a test I desperately need to study for. A quilt that I want to work on very much. And I have to work. Life is going to be difficult for me for a while until I can get into the rhythm of working all the time and not being able to do what I want to do. :sigh:

Ok.. I gotta get some work done. I'll BBL for more probably. I have plenty to bitch about.

Cheers.

The novelty has worn off....

My Dear Mouth,

Ok. I've had enough. The percocet was fun and all... but I'm ready for you to stop hurting. I know you're sore at me for having put you through the torture that is dental work. I appreciate the effort you put out in getting me through that. I understand that you're angry with me. Other than treat you to the glorious coffee that you love... I don't know what else I can do to make amends.

I have brushed you oh-so-gently... I have eaten the softest foods I can find. I don't know what else to do to coax you into not hurting anymore. When I take the percocet I pretty much can't function...

Help me help you. Stop hurting.

Thanks in advance.

Sincerely,
the rest of my face

Update on old gay BFF

Remember a few posts back I said something about having contacted my old gay BFF from way back on myspace? He has checked on myspace and he DID NOT CONTACT ME!!! I sent him a message... nothing. SO DISAPPOINTING.

To mix or not, that is the question.

Dental work, Percocets and my job don't mix!

Percocets and frosties mix quite well.

Percocets and mac-n-cheese (from the box, thank you very much) work.

Percocets and reading don't work. Percocets and reading vampire fiction? REALLY don't work.

Percocets and sleeping, works like nobodies bidness... unless you've read vamp fiction... then not as well.

So, as you might can tell, I had more dental work done. This time I had TWO teeth removed, a root canal, and a cavity filled. That and an extensive cleaning. I've mentioned my love for my dentists lack of discretion regarding the use of narcotics. He gave me two Halcion to start with... then another halfway through. He gave me nitrous. And then gave me my precious percocets at the end.

Thanks to the Halcions and the nitrous, I slept through the root canal and the cavity. I woke up when they were cleaning. Then they gave me the third halcion, and I went back to sleep while they pulled my teeth.

While I"m on the subject. Here's a warning to y'all that think you know what's best when it comes to dentistry. If they tell you that you have to get your wisdom teeth out at age 18, they're not joking. They're not trying to just make money off of you. They mean it. I have lost the two teeth in front of my wisdom teeth on top (one off of each side) thanks to my ignorance. It doesn't matter how well you brush, or floss. If there isn't room, there just isn't room. And then, all the sudden (literally it feels) you're 34 years old, writing a blogger post on the benefits or percocet due to extensive dental work. Sucks. Only not, cause, HELLO! PERCOCET!!

I know that I speak of my percocet love a lot. I will admit this... I could totally be a pill head. If there was unlimited access to them, I'd be in trouble. Fortunately, I only have 17 left. I have to use them sparingly.

Dear readers, in all seriousness... I am not a narcotic junkie. I can barely function, much less work and live while taking percocet. I just figure I had better take advantage of it and enjoy it while I'm in pain. Hee.

Coming Home

Many times in my life I thought I was in love. Turns out I was not. Not even close. Part of me knew that at the time, but a larger part of me was sure that even though that might be true... I could always make it what I wanted it to be. Turns out I was wrong about that too.

Realizing what a cliche this is, I'm going to say it anyway. Meeting Mark was like coming home for the first time in my lifetime. I was 31. I had been married before, I had been in my fair share (and then some) of adult relationships. The first night we met, I knew. I couldn't tell you what exactly, I knew... but I knew it was different, special. I didn't realize how exactly right I was.

We've been together just over two years now... every morning he kisses me goodbye and I miss him already. I can't wait to talk to him later in the day (he calls me every morning at 9am, it's the sweetest thing ever and it makes my day.) After we get off work, I can't wait to get home and see him.

As far as literal "coming home"... when I walk in the door I am greeted by the most enthusiastic creature known to mankind. My pup Thor cannot wait even one second to be picked up. He is whining and jumping and scratching. And as soon as you pick him up, he puts both paws around your neck and puts his cheek to your cheek for the best puppy hug you've ever had. It's awesome!

So, the point of this rambling entry is this: There is no place like home. There is no place like home. There is no place like home.

CRAP!

I don't think my sister-in-law liked the bag! She said she liked it, but I am really not so sure. She was all "sure I like it, it's nice, you made it right?"

FUCK ME. That cuts me deep.

Bags and Table runners! OH MY!!

Here's a table runner I made in my class with Gumbogirl, it's not quite finished yet.




A bag I made for my sister-in-law for her birthday this weekend:

Intelligence for MY life??!

When working for a non-for-profit Catholic hospital, the employees are not permitted to listen to anything other than “lite” radio.  The third shift workers are then obligated to listen to John Tesh Radio.  Mr. John Tesh spins some of the most melancholy music imaginable.  His tunes are so depressing that it makes one wonder if John Tesh himself is on Prozac, or if he is not, maybe he is getting paid by the pharmaceutical companies to bring his listeners down.  Mr. Tesh, however, declares that his goal is to give his listeners “Intelligence for Your Life.”  This is a noble and honorable quest, but as I listen, I cannot help but wonder who this “intelligence” is aimed at.

            Tonight’s big topic is a four step plan designed to help you leave work stress at work.  He begins with an analogy, “Pick low hanging fruit.”  I think this means to start with the small things on the list and work your way up from there.  He says that we will feel a sense of accomplishment if we have returned phone calls, replied to emails, or tackled our stack of post-it notes.  This advice begs the question, when are we supposed to do the actual work?  At my job, and many other jobs, most of our time is spent dealing with “small” things.  As the day progresses, more and more small things begin to stack up. This makes me wonder if John Tesh has ever had a “real” job.  Also, it seems to me that most of the small things that need to be done come after you have finished the rest of your work. Seriously, how can you answer questions about a page three of a report that you have not written yet? Alright, maybe that is a stretch, but in all honesty, small things are never what loom over your head at night and wake you in a cold sweat.

            His next suggestion is to turn off the radio. I find this one particularly fascinating because- he's on the radio! So I would like to think that this indicates that John Tesh knows he is full of it and understands that his role should not be to commiserate, but rather, simply put, just to play the music. But, I digress. How can a radio DJ actually encourage his listeners to turn him off? I wonder if his sponsors heard this one and if so, do you think Eli Lilly pulled their funding? 

His third suggestion is to take the back roads to and from work. This is a clear indication that John Tesh is morning person. Obviously he has not had to rush to get to work by 7am. Otherwise, he'd know that the lackadaisical route is not going to be his listener’s choice when they have 5 minutes to cover a 15 minute drive. I also have to wonder if this means he has no reason to go home or need to pick up children, cook dinner, or has ever just finished working a 16 hour shift wanting nothing more to magically be transported to his bed sans the drive home in the first place! John Tesh and I clearly have nothing in common.  I'm always in a big hurry to get home and all I have waiting for me is my cat and piles of laundry.

The last suggestion for leaving work at work is to hit the showers when you get home. I like this one. He says washing creates a psychological and physical boundary. It is literally washing the day's stress off of you. I don't know about all that, I just think most people don't smell all that great after eight, nine, or ten plus hours at work and a shower refreshes them and makes them, and the people around them, happier. I know my cat agrees.

He sums this all up by saying that if we follow his suggestions then we'll be less stressed out people at home. Of course it is highly possible that we will lose our jobs because we don't finish any of our assignments, or worse, because we never get to work in the first place. But the bright side is this; all our phone calls and emails are answered, we never have to listen to his suggestions again, and we always smell minty fresh!

So my options are to continue listening to John Tesh, and quite possibly have my eyes permanently rolled toward the back of my head, or to simply turn off the radio. While turning the radio off may very well seem like the more appropriate choice (for really, who wants to be depressed?) The silence that remains is deafening, reminding me that I’m not where I should be, want to be, or could be.  Of the two options? I’ll take John Tesh.

mmmhhhhhh Dead bodies?

TWOFER: Condesation and Gay boys with free coffees

Numero Uno: Condensation.

Last night my husband, smart man that he is, commented to me that the freezer on our relatively brand new refrigerator had recently accumulated some ice. It's not supposed to do that because it's a self-defrosting blah blah blah kind of fridge. So I go in and look at it and there are ice crystals here and there, but they're only at the edge of the freezer basket (we have a bottom freezer.)

I say to him, it's ok, the door just wasn't shut and air got in. He says that's stupid, it's a freezer, air doesn't cause ice, freezers do. I sighed, I could see that this conversation was going no where fast. And even if I explained it, he was going to argue with me, that's just who he is. But, the glutton that I am, I did it anyway. I told him.. the door doesn't get shut, the warm air from the outside seeps in mixing with the very cold air of the freezer. THEN condensation forms. Once the freezer door is shut right, or perhaps before that even, the condensation turns to, WHAT? oh, that's right! ICE! Goof ball. He still couldn't tell me I was right.

He says he doesn't understand my "need" to be right all the time. That's not it at all. I don't "need" to be anything, any of the time... I just AM. Herein lies his problem. The man fancies himself smarter than me. He proceeded to tell me last night that HE knew more about science than I do (Hi. Degree in applied science? Who do you belong to? "Jennifer" it whispers in that "I see dead people" type of voice. But I digress...) So again, he was wrong. He needs to learn just to accept that 9/10 times when we're talking about something like this, I will be right. If we were talking about a tv show or movie or anything pop cultural, HE would be right 9/10 times. It's just the way it is.

Numero dos: Gay boy and free coffee!

I stop at the WaWa every morning for coffee. I could make coffee at home, but A) I am lazy and B) I am lazy. There's a new cashier there. He's very blond, very cute, very friendly, and very gay. He reminded me of a friend I used to have named Jim. I'll get to that part in a minute.

When I get my coffee in the morning, I usually also get a nutritious breakfast item such as mini-donuts... or a muffin. Several days in a row now he has neglected to ring up my coffee. He just winks at me and tells me to have a great day! So, naturally, I adore him.

He said to me yesterday "You're too pretty not to smile. If you're going to come in here each morning, you're going to have to put a smile on that face." Being told you're pretty by a gay boy is infinitely more rewarding than being told you're pretty by a straight boy. Here's why. Stereotypically, gay boys have a better appreciation for all things beautiful. Also, they're looking at you as a person, not as a conquest. So if one of them thinks you're pretty, it's because he really thinks that... not because he wants an all-pass access to your vajaja. Ya know?

So free coffee, gay boy compliments, and always being right is a great great way to start a day!!!

So my friend Jim.... I met him when I was 18 or 19, not sure. He was so cute, but my girlfriend liked him and his friend liked me, so that's how we all ended up. We spent several weekends like that, it was great. Then we all just broke up for whatever reason. (He came out of the closet a few years later.) Except Jim and I seemed to maintain a friendship via snail mail and phone calls. For several years we were friends. Then he moved out to Arizona and I saw him one more time, for lunch. I haven't seen or talked to him since.

Until last night. I FOUND HIM! On myspace of course. I am so excited. I had such a crush on him, he just always made me comfortable with myself. He used to tell me I was pretty too. He was so cute. I looked at some of his pictures on myspace.. he's STILL cute! Awww... I sent him a PM... hopefully he'll respond. We'll see. I'll be very disappointed if he doesn't!

Dead bodies be gone!

**DISCLAIMER** At no point during these conversations did any of the participants actually consider killing anyone. This is for entertainment purposes only.

*Oh, and the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

While sitting at lunch the other day, my girlfriend Amy* and I were discussing our men. We had this complaint or that complaint, as most of these types of conversations go. I made the comment "Men, hrumph, you can't live with them and you can't kill them."

At this point another coworker named *Keith piped in with, "But you can." And he proceeds to inform us of the multitude of ways to kill, and then dispose of, the human body. (At this point, reread the disclaimer. We don't want to go to jail.)

His first suggestion consisted of cutting up the dead human body. Then take the human body and put the pieces in biohazard bags, and dispose of them with the rest of the biohazardous waste. (We happen to work at a medical facility... but if we didn't, taking it to the nearest hospital would be an option.)

Keith's point was that medical waste is incinerated, so there's NO evidence. That's a good point.

I have the following issues with this method:
1) Cutting up the dead body. GROSS. Messy and... UGH... GROSS!
2) Schlepping the dead body parts to work/facility to dispose of it. Still very gross.

So Amy went home and discussed with her husband different ideas for disposing of a body. His idea was to obtain a VW Bug engine block. To then bury the body with the block. Apparently the VW Bug releases some sort of phosphorus or magnesium into the soil so the body will never be discovered. It also helps to disintegrate the body/bones and the dirt on top provides some sort of cocoon like environment to accelerate the destruction of the body.

His next idea was to take the live body out on a boat and bring with you cement in a bad. To knock the person unconscious and to put their feet in a box, add the cement, add sea water. Let the cement harden and toss them overboard. I say he's been watching too much Sopranos with that one.

So here are the issues with these methods:
1) Where in the HELL would you obtain a VW Bug engine block? This does make me wonder if the gov't watches purchases of VW Bug engine blocks. Is there a mandatory waiting period, ie for a handgun?
2) Renting a boat? I don't own a boat. Do you own a boat? What if you don't live near the ocean? I mean, I don't believe that tossing a body in the James River would prevent me from getting caught.

So Amy and I go to work the next day and Keith comes up to us at lunch and tells us that he googled how much heat you need to completely incinerate a body. A cremated body disintegrates at 1600-1800 F. But, contrary to popular belief, cremating a body does not result in ashes. It is actually dried bone fragments that have been pulverized by a device called a cremulator. (Ok, OK! I looked most of that stuff up on Wikipedia. )

So we discuss this for the second day in a row. At this point, I'm thinking... hmmmm. what if people start to overhear us? Will they think the three of us are plotting something insidious? Amy was even more concerned than I was. She insisted on my changing the names to protect them, ahem, innocent.

These are the things we discuss during lunch. The other tables, they're talking about work related stuff. We don't do that because, IT'S LUNCH TIME. NO work can be discussed during lunch time. Nothing makes me madder than someone coming up to one of us at lunch to ask us a question. Seriously, you can't wait 30 fucking minutes? YES, YES YOU CAN. Go away. Of course, we don't say that. We smile politely and then bitch about them once they're far enough away that they can't hear us.

What? We're mean. I don't care. If they heard us talking about the killing sprees and disposing of dead bodies, would they really approach us anyway? hahaha. One can only hope not.

In the competition for...

In the competition for the weirdest topic, my husband and his two friends have nominated: Jennifer Aniston's Ass.

Now one might conclude that they would be discussing the fineness of her ass. This would be incorrect, though I'm sure it goes without saying.

Mark started the topic out by letting us know that the *real* reason that Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt broke up was because Brad stuck his finger up Jennifer's ass and so she kicked him out.

So throughout the evening I have been bombarded with so and so... "stuck his thumb up Jennifer Aniston's ass and she kicked him out." One of our friends has a broken pinkie toe... yep, his story is he broke it sticking it up Jennifer Aniston's ass.

Being the only female privy to this conversation puts me in a unique position. I have suggested that they find another topic of conversation. That was followed up with "well, Angelina Jolie stuck her big toe up my ass and I kicked her out."

I can't win. So I won't try. I'll just report it back to you all. Laughter is the best revenge.

Percocet and Frosties

Ok. I admit it. I am TERRIFIED of the dentist. Like, pee myself scared. Sitting in the waiting room, holding my breath, I feel like vomiting or passing out. Yeah, it's like that.

So, about a year ago I broke the wisdom tooth on my upper left hand side. Painful, yes. But I endured... because, ya know, terrified. I am pretty sure I broke it because I was incredibly stressed out and grinding my teeth a lot at night. And also because I have a very shallow mouth and my teeth are super close together and it's extremely difficult to reach those back teeth.

Anyway, off and on for the year it has caused me some pain. It usually goes away, but when it hurts it is very intense. Well, last week it started hurting. The pain is so strong that it makes me sick to my stomach... highly reminiscent of when I am at the dentist. So, I decide FUCK IT. I'LL GO ALREADY. Only I can't remember the name of the dentist that doesn't make me piss myself when I see him.

On the radio there are always ads for this Drs White and White. I call them because I have resigned myself to either a few hours of hideous discomfort or a lifetime of oral pain. They can't get me in until Monday. Which suck, but mostly because that means all the anticipation can build up and give me time to puss out. I didn't, but I thought about it.

Ok, so I go on Monday. I walk in and they already seem to know me. Freaked me out... they called me Jennifer without my introducing myself. This is when I realize I still have my work ID on. I add this in, not because it's relative to this story, but because it illustrates how ridiculous I feel at that moment.

Sitting in the waiting room, I text message Meredith. Letting her know I'm close to puking/panicking and looking for an escape route. I don't have time for it though, as soon as I send the message they call me back. The Dental assistant's name is Joanne, but she goes by Jo. I immediately like her. This helps more than I can tell you. She gives me a mini-tour of the facility. It's beautiful, state of the art. She leads me to my room and offers me water, apple juice, anything to eat? I decline politely. I am too nervous to drink/eat anything.

I am only sitting in the chair for less than 2 minutes when the dentist walks in.

OH! I forgot to add. When I made the appt. the week before the dentist himself called me to ask me exactly what was wrong with my tooth. I explained what happened and I asked him if I could have some penicillin. I was afraid of becoming infected. I felt a little feverish, ect... Not only did he call in the pen, but he offered me narcotics if I wanted/needed them. I declined. I still have enough of my mother left in me to be wary of taking drugs from strange doctors. I regretted it over the weekend though. I will add that the pen made things better by a lot. But still... NARCOTICS!!! But I digress...

The dentist walks in, very friendly. Asks me how I'm feeling that moment... do I need anything? ect... he takes a look in my mouth and says to get some x-rays.

Anyway, fast forward... it's time to remove the tooth. To prepare me they put headphones on my ears so I could hear soothing piano music. Put sunglasses on my eyes to protect me from the bright white light. And then gave me my very first experience with Nitrous Oxide.

I'd heard bad things about nitrous... how it smelled bad, whatever. It's the GAS OF THE GODS! I <3333 it x 12389723498723498724!!! The only thing I was not crazy about was that even though my body was incredibly relaxed... my mind was still in full form. You know when you get your teeth cleaned you can hear the scraping in echoing in your head? Well even though I didn't feel anything when he pulled the tooth, I could hear it being RIPPED OUT OF MY HEAD. And yeah.... I'd rather not experience that.

SO after the procedure is over... they sit me up and GIVE ME ICECREAM! No joke! Then? He tells me to GO GET A FROSTY FROM WENDY'S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Lastly? He gave me PERCOCET!!!!!!!

So over all, I love my dentist. He's the awesomest. I mean Percocet AND a Frosty? He knows the way to a woman's heart.

PS It's not possible to read a ton of tiny little numbers when you're enjoying the Percocet. IE don't take it at work.

Thanks to Gumbo girl for drivin' me today.

YAY DRUGS!!!

oh YAY! ANSWERS!!!!!!

#1 Do you believe in Zombies?

Zombie is a pretty relative term. I work for a major international corporation, so yeah, in that regard I definitely believe in zombies. I also believe in the films of Rob Zombie…but not his music because it makes me embarrassed FOR him since the movies are so good in comparison.

Well, first off, I am sorry to tell you that you FAIL this question. Not because you are wrong but because you took the question to literally. Where's the imagination? The ZEAL?! I hope subsequent questions fair better. :sigh: I expected more.

Second, how can you NOT like "Dragula"? IT's an awesome song. I don't know what it means because I cannot understand him, but it's a great song none-the less.

Overall: C-

#2 In the event of a zombie attack, which would you rather do?
A) Go to a deserted island.
B) Go to Canada.

Neither. Going to Canada for protection is like being Jewish and trying to hide out in France during WWII, and there are no liquor stores or the internet on deserted islands. These colors don’t run. I’ll take myself out like that Mexican lesbian and Bill Paxton in Aliens if it comes down to that. And if I’m with someone who I think might wuss out during a zombie attack, I will kill them just to make a point. And I will eat their corpse in front of the zombies as a way to trick them.

OH SHIT! A+ Awesome answer. +5 points for bringing the LOLs.

3) In the movie "28 Days Later" what are the offending creatures? THINK CAREFULLY. If need be read up on the creation of zombies.

In the classical sense there are three types of “zombies”…. First, there is the zombie created by magical/religious means like voodoo or ancient pagan mystery religions. Second, there is the zombie who is created one at a time by medical/neurological modification, much like Jeffrey Dahmer was trying to do with his victims. Lastly, there is the being created by chemical/biological means which most people would think of as a “zombie”, and is highlighted in films like 28 days later. In a very simplistic sense I could see where this person is a zombie, but in reality they are just victims of some type of chemical warfare much like the “super soldier” experiments that are touched upon in movies like Jacob’s Ladder. Plus, 28 Days Later is just a ripoff of movies like Return of the Living Dead (the only zombie movie anyone needs to watch), so in cheesy movie-world they are zombies. However, if the scenario actually came to pass in the real world I would say they are absolutely NOT zombies….they are just victims of an experiment gone awry. Real zombie movies don’t take that much time explaining how the zombies came to be…….I’m thinking of movies like Night of the Comet and Dawn of the Dead here. 28 Days Later gets too preachy and clinical for these things to be REAL zombies. Plus, even though they are all fast and shit, I could fuck one of them up WAY too easily for them to be a for-real zombie.

B- CORRECT answer. They are NOT ZOMBIES. Mark and I got into an actual screaming match (I had to bring on the tears to stop him, yeah, it was like THAT.) over this question. But points lost for slamming the movie. Ripoff or not, it's a great movie, unlike it's sequel, which is marginal at best.

4) Do you know any Cyborgs?

No

Excellent. This was not a graded question. Just a matter of public safety.

5) Do you have access to a laser rifle?

I do not, but I do have access to firearms with laser scopes on them.

Not the same thing, we're all safe. WHEW!!!

6) If you do know any cyborgs, do they have access to the laser rifles?

See question 4.

7) If you had to become something undead, what would it be? and why?

Probably a communion wafer in a Catholic church…..they believe in transubstantiation.

A+ That answer made me snort. Not an easy thing to do!

8) Have you ever spent time at sea with Pirates?

I live in Missouri, so the closest I could come would be running into some Riverboat thugs like Huckleberry Finn and Injun Joe.

C- Answer unclear. Is this a yes or a no?

9) If you had your choice would you spend your Thursday nights watching a Dog Reality show on CBS or ANYTHING ELSE?

As long as it wasn’t on at the same time as The Office, I’d definitely watch a show about dogs……unless it’s Groomer Has It, which totally sucks. And I did have sex with the Dog Wheeesperer.

F because I don't know what to say to that last part. But bonus points for liking The Office.

10) Coke or pepsi? YOU MUST HAVE A LOYALTY.

If I had to pick one it would be coke. I don’t drink that much cola, especially not diet cola because there are far superior diet sodas. Coke is just something to mix with bourbon…..but the bourbon has to be pretty cheap (like Old Crow) to ruin it with soda, in which case I generally opt for RC Cola over Coke. However, between Coke and Pepsi I do choose Coke.

FAIL. It was a trick question. You don't have to have loyalty.

Overall, I give you a B+. I'm impressed with the answers to #2 and #7. You pass. Good job!!!!

Gentle readers,

A reader of mine posted a comment inquiring about the previous blog. She asked some excellent questions:

So this is kind of like an interview for him?
Yes it is.

Are there actually right or wrong answers, or is it the time and effort taken when answering the questions that is the deciding factor for you?
Both really. There are not really any "wrong" answers per say... but there are answers that are better than the rest. Remember those tests in college with the multiple choice questions and the instructions are to "Choose the BEST answer"? This is the objective.... well, minus the actual multiple choice part of it.

Do you do this for all your friends perspective boyfriends??
No, oddly enough just for this one friend.

To give a more serious reply... The questions hold little to no validity nor do they actually lend influence as to whether or not I will like him. More so, it's a warning for the boyfriends. See, Me and mine... well... we have what one might call a warped sense of humor. And if you're gonna hang with us, it's really important that this be, at least, tolerated. It's better if it's joined in with, because, let's face it/not to toot my own horn, we're damn funny people. Like LOL or LMAO or LMFAO or even ROTFLMFAO funny. I mean pick your acronym, any acronym, they're all accurate.

From what I have read about Jerry (see his blog: Unsaved Loved Ones ) he is wicked funny and should have no problem lasting us out... well, maybe not Jessica (she's meaner than the rest of us, I KID! I KID!) But we'll see. Stay tuned for updates.

Thanks for your questions.
Cheers,
Jenn

Questions for Jerry

So, next month I get to meet my best friend's new boyfriend. I am nervous because the last one... well... he didn't like me. So, now I get to meet the new one and I want him to like me... but I'm scared. What if he doesn't answer the questions right? It's IMPERATIVE that he answer my questions not only accurately, but with zeal and imagination.

The following is an example of the sorts of questions that he will face upon his arrival in the BIG VA.

#1 Do you believe in Zombies?

#2 In the event of a zombie attack, which would you rather do?
A) Go to a deserted island.
B) Go to Canada.

The mister and I are at odds on the above question, so he should really concentrate and answer correctly if he wishes to get into my good graces.

3) In the movie "28 Days Later" what are the offending creatures? THINK CAREFULLY. If need be read up on the creation of zombies.

4) Do you know any Cyborgs?

5) Do you have access to a laser rifle?

6) If you do know any cyborgs, do they have access to the laser rifles?

7) If you had to become something undead, what would it be? and why?

8) Have you ever spent time at sea with Pirates?

9) If you had your choice would you spend your Thursday nights watching a Dog Reality show on CBS or ANYTHING ELSE?

10) Coke or pepsi? YOU MUST HAVE A LOYALTY.

10 sample questions that I expect thorough, well thought-out answers to. We'll see how much effort he puts into his response. It should be interesting.

Tic...Tic... TICKER

YAY and NAY, but... MOSTLY YAY!!!!

Why the caps you're thinking? Or maybe you're not thinking it, but if you spend any time in the e-world, you'd be thinking it.

Well, first the "YAY"s! (in no particular order, except for the first two. They're the rockin'est.)

1) SCHOOL IS FINISHED FOR THIS SEMESTER!!!!!
I am so grateful. I finished the semester. I passed! It's OVER!
2) Recuperating!!!!
I have sixish weeks to recuperate from the semester from hell.
3) SEWING!!!!
Starting tomorrow my good friend Angie and I are taking a(nother) sewing class. It's to make a table runner. I am actually making one for the entertainment center in the big room. It's got turquoise and bright green and browns. My favorite colors!!!
4) Swimming!!!
I am so enjoy my swimming. My only problem is that I don't want to get up early enough on Saturday mornings to get to the swimming place.
5) Getting my house Organized!!!!
Why is this a yay? I'm not sure, other than it really is a necessary evil and I have time to do it.
6) DINNER!!
I had dinner w/ my good friend Jessica. It was an awesome burger and fries and onion rings capped off with a chocolate raspberry shake. YUM! It was GREAT!!!!
7) SHARPIE PEN!!!
OMG I MUST HAVE IT!!!! The commercial says it doesn't bleed through paper!!

NAYs:

1) My bestest friend is stuck in freakin' Chicago. Her flight got canceled and she's stuck in a hotel room. That meant we didn't get to have dinner and I probably won't get to see her until at least, Wednesday, if not later. BOO!

2) I have to work all the sixish weeks that I am out of school. SUCKS.

3) This fall is going to be really really fucking hard. Like depressingly so.


So this is my life right now. Slower, but still busy. It's good though, ya know? Really good. Happiness is totally underrated. :)

I sound like a drag queen!!

And I have for about a week now. I have Pneumonia. I've been to the doctor twice. Finally I have some high powered antibiotics and a steroid pack and an inhaler. And still, I sound like a drag queen. I don't look like a drag queen, as in I have real boobs and a real vajajay.

Speaking of vajajays. The show Two and a half men is on teevee and Charlie just said "I've got a vagina on my back! I need help." It might just be the codeine cough syrup, but that was funny.

Back on topic... I've been off of work for a week and I'm about to go insane. I don't stay home this much. I've slept a bazillion hours and watched a shitton of Law and Order Criminal Intent (thank you USA for the a-thon.) and now? I'm bored.

Also, I can't go swimming. that makes me sad.

Confidential to Jessica:

Tools, internet options, a box will pop open, the first box within the box is a home page. Just click "use current page".

Be sure to put your page on the page you want as your home page though.

Thanks for being a good sport.

MWAH!!!

Attention ALL PROFESSIONAL BADMINTON PLAYERS

Tournament of Champions at my house this Saturday. Sign ups are at 6pm. Dinner provided (please bring your own beer and/or other recreational substances.) (J/K!!)

Dinner at 6:30. Hotdogs, Hamburgers, pasta salad, chips.

Two trophies will be awarded. One for the single champion and one for the doubles champion.

Badminton racquet's will be provided. But if the birdies (I refuse to call them shuttlecocks) go over the fence, they're gone. The neighbor is a bitch.

Mozilla Firefox Version 3? HATES ME

And I hate it too. I've downloaded, installed, uninstalled and started over again 3, possibly 4 times (I lost count in the blind rage that was caused by the prospect of losing all my bookmarks! FUCKERS.) Each time it "Crashed". Rebooted the whole laptop. Crashed. Assholes.

So I got a link to the older version I was already on when the stupid newer "Better, Faster" version came out and installed it. It works just fine.

Newer /= better

Ya know?

10 Simple Things.

Someone posted a thread on a message board I frequent asking us to list "10 Simple things". Sometimes it's truly beneficial to the psyche to remember what's good and what's easy in your life.

Here are mine:

1) When I get home and Thor is insane with excitement to see me.
2) When Mark kisses me on the bridge of my nose.
3) When mark calls me his butterbean.
4) Sleeping in an extra hour.
5) A hot cup of coffee.
6) A great conversation with friends.
7) Holding hands while we drive.
8) Learning to swim
9) Finishing a really great book.
10) Singing along with the car radio.

/pollyanna

My weekend

Friday: Probably one of the greatest Friday nights ever. Started with a quick trip to Dick's Sporting Goods... Then four of us (Meredith, Jessica, and Angie) went to 5 Guys Burgers and Fries. The burger and fries were amazing. But even more so was the two hour conversation that took place between us. It was fabulous. Think Sex and the City only better with less Samantha.

The evening wound down and left me feeling very comfortable in my skin. It left me with a sense of rightness with my world and myself. With the issues I've had with anxiety and self-esteem this year, it was really wonderful. I also came away from it knowing that I have the GREATEST group of friends that there is to have. I am so incredibly lucky.

Saturday started around 8:30 am. Angie called me and we met up for some swimming. I swam another quarter of a mile (up to half a mile now.) It was great. The only bad part was; I was exhausted afterwards. Seriously exhausted.

After swimming I stopped for some CFA for lunch. I was in line for no-joke 45 minutes. SO IRRITATING. By the time I was aware enough to think I should go to Penn Station and get an artichoke sub instead I was blocked in and couldn't get out of line. Worked out fine though because by the time I got home I was so tired I fell asleep prior to actually eating the sandwich. (No worries though, Friends, I ate the fries on the way home.)

Saturday night consisted of driving up to Fredricksburg, VA to enjoy a birthday dinner with Sheila at Poppy Hill Tuscan Kitchen. It was fun. The Crab Crostini and the Antipasta plate were incredible. The Shrimp Risotto was amazing... the salmon was way way overdone. And we ended up getting the desserts for free b/c the dude just sorta forgot about us, but they were good too, specifically the Tiramisu.

After the restaurant we went to two bars. The first bar was fun for 3 of us, the second bar was fun for 2 of us... but really I just felt old and tired and wanted to go home. This bothers me on a basic level. First, how is it possible that on a Saturday night at 10pm I am thinking about going home and to bed? Second, why do I feel old in a bar? I may be 34, but I do not LOOK 34 and I am a fairly hip, not at all old-fashioned 34... so seriously, wtf has happened to me?

By Sunday I was over it.

It was Father's day to this Sunday. My dad came over w/ this gf and my sister. We got him an icecream maker for Father's day. I'm pretty sure he'll use it once or twice, but I'm guessing he'll put it away and eventually sell it in a yard sale or something. But he wanted it, and he's happy, so...

Then Sunday afternoon we went to Mark's parents for dinner. We gave his dad a bottle of Knob Creek Whiskey. So yum. I hope he likes it.

So that was my weekend. We just watched Design Star and now Mark is watching the History channel. Something about torture and execution devices.... great to watch prior to going to bed, right?

I swam a QUARTER of a mile

That's not a lot you're thinking. Aren't you? It's 16 laps. And I did it. I can't walk now... but I did it. I can't lift my arms above my head... but I did it. I wolfed down dinner like I have never eaten before... BUT... I did it. I am exhausted and happy and satisfied. And, guess what? I DID IT!!!!!

Memo to: My left ovary.

Dearest Ovary,

I appreciate the hard work you're putting in producing eggs. So please understand I'm not complaining or putting you down. But dude, let go. Those eggs need to go where you cannot follow. It's your JOB to let go. So just do it. You're hurting me. Like, physically.

Also, tell your friend Hormone that she can go fuck herself. Her tantrum inductions are NOT appreciated. AT.ALL. They make me look stupid.

Thanks in advance for your eternal cooperation.

Sincerely,

Your owner

Update...

Well... I was right. He wasn't aching for me... matter of fact he was more interested in trying to find people to come over and drink with us... and even when I propositioned him, he's all "how about later"... and I pouted and he "gave in."

:sigh: I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong.

I clean up good...

Me with makeup on... see? I *can* look good. I just choose not to do it for work and all that. What's the point? I cant wear cute strappy tank tops to work... or jeans or hell, even a nice shirt and pants. Man, scrubs really get me down.

So this is me only 5 minutes ago. I'm getting ready to go to two parties. One is a cookout and one is a birthday party for Mark's younger brother. Both should be fun. I thought I would have more fun if I got gussied up and, my goal is, to make Mark feel like he "can't wait to get me home"... if you catch my drift. I doubt it will work. I don't have that affect on him. I don't know if I ever did.

So I was supposed to study yesterday and today... but I'm moody and down-in-the-dumps about the up-coming IUI. I don't want to do it. I want to get pregnant.. but this trying and failing bullshit is really putting a damper on the whole process. That and I have a little bit of feeling sorry for myself... like why? Why can't it just be easy??

I went grocery shopping yesterday... I bought all healthy foods.. nothing junky (except pretzels for Mark's lunch.) I think I did good. So Weight Watchers, Here I come. Ya know??!

ALright, it's 4pm.. I gotta rush Mr. Mark along so we can get going. Cheers.

On the upswing....

So... a few months ago (end of January or so)... I went through a...ummm... "spell". I was screwing up at work, not handling my anxiety and stress at all... just completely out-of-sorts. Unfortunately it caught up with me creating a bit of chaos and some serious embarrassment on my part.

But!!! (isn't there always) Last week I "found" a very rare unit of blood. Like 9 out of 10, 000 rare. So, here's to hoping that tips the scales some, ya know? Today, Martha the B.O.S.S. brought me a cake (chocolate!!) and we had a celebration. The next celebration will be a "mexican fiesta" according to Martha. Ha. She's so cute.

Then to top it off, I got home and I checked my grade from the BIG test I took last week... 94!!!!!!! I am SO proud of myself. I studied my ASS off for that test. Like, whoa.

four head? Eight head?

How big is your head? My friend (name anonymous to protect the innocent) has always complained about how large her head is... the circumference, I mean. So the other day she measured her head and it's 22" around. Her coworker, who is shorter than she is, has a 24" head.

Ok, here's the real question... why, when someone mentions that they've measured their head, do I feel an intense need to find a tape measure and measure mine? That doesn't make sense to me. Is it a Pavlov thing? I understand someone mentioning food or drink and craving that... I don't get the need to measure my skull.

It's 19" by the way.

Jessica Never Reads My Blog...

I don't know why. Does she hate me?! She says she loves me, but she never checks in here to see how my week is going.... or what kind of day I'm having.... Oh, wait, I never do that for her either, you're thinking? Well, Right, except SHE doesn't HAVE a BLOG. Pffbbtt.

A conversation w/ my husband....

Preface: Mark does ALL the laundry... it's just the way we've worked things out. I finished studying for the night and decided to fold the laundry in the dryer for him (for us.)

M: Honey, where are you?
J: In the kitchen
M: what are you doing?
J: Studying
M: Where?
J: At the table
M: I don't see you.
J: I'm invisible.
M: You are NOT invisible.
J: Yes I am.

It went on until he brow-beat me into admitting I was folding clothes... but what I don't get is why he didn't play along with my pretending (or was I?) to be invisible. I mean, he couldn't see me, but he could hear me... how did he know I'd not stolen Harry Potter's invisibility cloak or something? He didn't. He just assumed I was really visible and not where I said I was. HUMPH. Where's the faith???!

Weekend report... aka snoozefest May 08

How do you take a full 48 hours and make them feel as short as possible? Call them Saturday and Sunday and be "off work"... that's how.

So starting with Friday.....
I got off work at 3:30 and ran home and showered. Then I met my friend Angie at Hancock (or "the cock" as she calls it) fabrics.... where I signed away the rights to my first born child buying fabric and patterns. (In my defense, both the patterns and the fabric were on sale. Like a big sale.. the patterns were $1.99 a piece and the fat quarters were 1.49 each.)

Then we went to our favorite restaurant "Penn Station" for dinner (Philly S&C w/ fries). I got home probably around 9:30... I played with my fabric for a bit, ironed some that I am going to start a quilt with and then... well... I went to bed. What? I'm old. Shut up.

Saturday morning Mark and I woke up around 8:30 and went to breakfast (Hardees, chicken biscuit, the hashbrowns, sweet tea). Then we went to Lowes... where we sold the rights to our second born child. We bought paint for the "Study". A beautiful color.

Around 12:30 I met up with Angie and we went to our (my) favorite fabric store, Quilting Adventures. There I sold the rights to my THIRD child buying yet more fabric. This fabric had a specific purpose though (as if that helps). It's for the the window treatments in the "Study"... I bought Batik and a java blender for the border.

After all the shopping adventures we stopped for an iced coffee, of course. Then we went to our friend Jessica's jewelry party. Neither of us bought anything because we'd "shot our wad" at the fabric stores... but the eats were good, the company was great... so a good time was had regardless.

I came home and played with fabric and hung out with Marky-Mark... nothing too interesting or worth reading in a blog.

Sunday was nmore of the same... I was woken up by Mark at 8:30 am... this might've irritated me, but he wanted some booty so it was ok. (hee) We followed that up with Breakfast w/ my dad and his girlfriend...

We planted those Roses from a few posts back... that was good because it rained heavily about 30 minutes afterwards. Then there was boring movie watching... we went to see "Prince Caspian" in the afternoon. I liked it, more than Mark did.

There was some sadness this weekend too... One of my coworkers past away yesterday morning. His name was Art. He was a really cool guy. I didn't know him very well. I didn't go to his Wake tonight nor will I go to his funeral tomorrow... but he'll be missed.

So it's almost 11... I've been studying since about 7pm straight and I'm tired... Gotta go get some zzzz's so I can start the work week. (UGH)

10 random thoughts for the day.

1) The Starbucks Mint Mocha Chip Frappachino (or however that's spelled) is freakin' awesome. Get them to double blend it b/c the chips are a bit much. (It's a "light" frapp, so even better.)

2) If you've taken a week's time off of work over the course of 2 months to tend to you children who have colds, do not complain to me about not having any time off. Furthermore, if you're not at work, you're off. Granted it's not a vacation day, but it's not a day spent at work either.

3) When your only two immediate coworkers take vacations back to back leaving you to hold the fort down for 3 weeks straight? It's ok to be irritated.

4) Studying, no matter what you're studying for, sucks.

5) Finding someone to take all the trees down in your yard (12 of them) so that you can get a little sun in your life? PRICELESS.

6) The same someone from #5 only charging you $1K? An angel sent from the baby Jesus to bring that sun into your life.

7) Wear sunscreen.

8) If you're 33 and you go back to school and expect it to be easy, you will fail. It's going to be hard, it's going to get harder. Suffer through.

9) No food is better studying food than popcorn.

10) The very best feeling in the whole world is coming home and Thor goes insane wanting to see you.. jumping up and down needing a hug. It's not a substitute for a child.... but it goes a long way to making that pain a little more bearable.

In stitches and I'm additcted!!

This past Sunday Angie and I took our first sewing class. My friend Angie and I took our first sewing class. We made "Smart bags", or purses... To the right are the two we made in class. It turned out to be very easy and VERY fun!!! And, ADDICTING!!!

I went home and made 4 more:





I'd also bought a pattern to make a larger bag. I made it last night, but it's much much more complicated and time consuming than the little diddies above.

I *think*Angie and I are going to open up an Etsy shop with our stuff. I am trying to talk Mere into making some scarves, maybe Jess too. It'll be fun. I hope it's successful!

(WARNING: VENTING) Mother's day can suck me.

No offense to mothers everywhere. You deserve the recognition and all that. But seriously, it can suck me.

To start with, my mom has been gone for going on 8 years now. I miss her everyday... but having just had my second miscarriage a month ago, it seems wholely unfair that she's not around to hug me and tell me it'll be ok. Sure, I'm a big girl and shouldn't need that, but .... uhhh... I do.

Then there's the whole no-living-babies that gets me on this weekend too. If life were fair, I'd have two beautiful living children right now. But they're not. And it's hard because it's the only thing in life I want. I have everything else: friends, family, love, security, home... all of it. And, don't misunderstand, I recognize that in it's entirety. But my type A personality doesn't really allow me space to be "ok" with not being pregnant and not having any children.

On top of all that? I am PMSing. Which is a good thing because we can get back to the baby-making... but it makes me CRANKY and EMOTIONAL... which is fun for no one (especially me.)

Spring is here...

The sun is ashinin' ... the temperatures are arisin'... and the flowers? They are abloomin'!

I've lived in this house for 8 years now (minus the 2 years where I moved out, bought another house, got divorced, and then remarried and rebought the house), in all that time this rose bush has had MAYBE one or two roses on it all those years combined. Right now? it has 5...

Mark and I bought some roses to plant for the baby we lost... one is white and it hasn't bloomed yet. The other is a beautiful dark pink/red... here it is:

Naturally, I am obligated to show some pictures of our little boy playing in the back yard. He's so handsome and sweet.

Spring and Fall are always the prettiest time of the year. Spring usually kills me with the allergies and sinus issues... but this year hasn't been too bad. There has been tons of pollen as usual and my pretty blue car is more of a putrid greenish color.

Several girlfriends and I went to a wine festival last Saturday and they had Alpacas. I'm not positive of the connection between wine festivals and Alpacas... if you know, please leave a comment as to why. Until then, I'm just going to think it's sort of weird. They were cute though.

This last picture should need no explanation... or if it does, well... call your mom. Mere and I were on our way to the wine festival and she spotted this. We had to turn around and go back to get a picture of it. Totally worth it, as were the hysterics that it threw us in during the process.

Cheers, Y'all!

For the record...

Mint Crispy M&Ms? Not that great. Total disappointment. Which is not a bad thing... that means I won't be eating them non-stop until they go away. YAY!!!

God wants me to be fat....

Or else why would he invent "Mint Crisp M&M's"?

I'm just sayin'...

"I'm gonna hose you down.."

Mark called me this morning and asked me what I was doing tonight. I tell him my evening was booked full of tv watching with my husband. He asked, how about I take you out to dinner?

Naturally, I agree. A fun Monday evening date sounds great to me... especially considering we were quite busy, separately, this weekend.

So we go out to dinner and we're having a cocktail and flirting and I whisper something suggestive, indicating I'd like some time with him that is of a more, shall we say, "Adult" nature.

His response "I'm gonna have to hose you down." Now, he was joking... but WTF? Hose me down? I think he really has no idea how many men BEG their wives for sex... DAILY. He's livin' on easy street, spoiled man. I keep telling him, one of these days I'm going to refuse him and then he'll be super sad. But, both he and I know that's not going to happen.

Also, while I'm complaining.... he has decided that his version of indicating to me that he's interested in sex is rubbing my butt. Just that. Nothing more, nothing less... and he waits until I'm half/mostly asleep to do this. I'd find it funny and respond to it if I were awake.... and if I'd known that's what he was doing. I say something like "you never come on to me" and he says "yes I do, last night I did." I say, " no you didn't!" he says "yes, remember? I was rubbing your butt." Ummm, what? Ok, now I know.

Silly Man.

"There's a black fly in [my] chardonnay..."

Ok, so it's a gnat, not an actual fly. I was glad about that because I drank it anyway (after fishing the gnat out with a butter knife.) Gross, sure.. but I'm not one to waste tasty wine.

It's funny, though, how throughout my day-to-day activities I see something or say something or hear something and it reminds me of a song. It happens every day. Most of my friends are so awesome at pop culture references, Mark is too. *I* am not. But I am good at songs... especially songs from my early adulthood.

The aforementioned Alanis Morisette album came out in 1995. I was 21 and in "love" ( I use quotation marks because, until Mark, I didn't know what love was. That has nothing to do with this blog post, but whatev... I just wanted to say it.) His name was Lance and he was OMG Gorgeous. The song "You Oughta Know" was being overplayed on every radio station. Mr. OMG Gorgeous decided one snowy Saturday morning, actually it was January 6th, 1996, that I was not good enough for him. He never told me why or how he came to that conclusion... just that we were over and that's all I needed to know (fucker).

Being 21 years old and feeling clever I decided I was going to dedicate "You Oughta Know" to him every day, on every radio station, in every night club (we ran the same circles, he would eventually hear it.) until I felt that my point had been made. I don't know if he was ever affected by this behavior or not... but it made me feel better none-the-less. To this day I cannot hear that song without thinking of him and I smile.

Mark's and my song is "Darlin'" by Bambi Lee Savage. We love that song... we dance to it a lot, most every weekend. Of all the love songs in all of the world this was the one we felt most expressed our feelings toward one another. Here's why: In the move "Sling Blade" the two retarted (If you haven't seen the movie, they are genuinely mentally challenged, I'm not being ugly.) people are walking and falling in love and this song is playing in the background. We thought it was apropos that we chose that song... I mean two retards falling love? how could that *be* more right for us??? (Now I'm being ugly.)

My mom's favorite song was "Carolina in my Mind" by James Taylor. After my grandmother died, my mom played that song OVER AND OVER AND OVER again... She missed her mom so much. Then after my mom died, I refused to play it. Sometimes in the grocery store or the car I'll hear it and it's like she's hugging me or patting me on the back.

A few years back it was my Dad's birthday... I picked up the phone to call him and as his phone was ringing the song started on the radio. The way I see it, she was telling me to tell my dad Happy birthday for her. It all sounds hokey I know... but sometimes you seek comfort in whatever is readily available.

There's still a weenie glass left...

It's my birthday! It's my birthday! It's my birthday!!!! I'm 34 today... here's a picture of me at exactly my birth minute on my birthdate (I just happen to be up at 6:50 am today...)See the 34 year old bags under my eyes? Read the post below to figure those out! And for what it's worth... the top is a scrub top and not my preferred choice of clothing... I mean it's big multicolored flowers for christ sake... and pink. Not the fun, flirty kind of pink... the bright florescent kind. But it's comfortable... and required in my job description.

So I spent the day reminding people it was my birthday... fun for me, not as much fun for other peoples... but they all have birthdays too, so they were (seemed) understanding.

My coworkers were gracious and kind enough to buy my lunch for me... Vietnamese food, my very favorite. We all ate lunch together... this was the first time today that I ate too much.

On the way home I had to stop by the grocery store. Our local grocery is famous for it's birthday cakes... I hadn't had a birthday cake yet.... fortunately there were pieces of birthday cake available for just a couple of bucks, so I totally scored one of these and all the glorious sugary icing that was free with the purchase of the cake. (This was the SECOND time I ate too much.)

My last birthday event for the day was meeting up with my girlfriends for dinner. Mark had class until 7pm and wouldn't feel like going out after because he played in the mud all day.

We met up at Olive Garden. The waiter carded me... I had to walk the half mile, in the snow, uphill, back to my car to get my license (hyperbole, it was 67 and Sunny). I fought it, thinking he'd relent... I'm 34 today, after all. He did not.

When I got back Jess and I ordered a pitcher of Sangria. First, I thought that the pitcher of Sangria would be 12ish bucks... it's $20. That's a warning for other Olive Garden goers, cause they don't tell you that when you order it (sneaky bastards.)

The waiter, whose name is either Breeden, Eric, or Keith, took our order. I ordered shrimp caprese and Zuppa Toscana soup (the third/last time I ate too much.) The girls ordered Salad and entrees.

Now, I do realize that the salad is easier to serve than the soup... it's premade, it's in a big bowl.. whatever... but they should come out close to one another. After about 10 minutes the waiter comes back, the girls are done with their salads and I say to him "I think you hate me." He scoffed and asks, why... I tell him it's cause he hasn't brought my soup.

He is like superman at this point running to get my soup. When he gets back with it, I tell him I was just fucking with him... he laughs, acts like he already knew that... but the truth is, he looked like he peed himself when I said it.

Meanwhile, Jess is dousing herself in Sangria. I drank 1 and half generous glasses... she drank the rest... including the weenie glass of Sangria that was left.
Here's proof:
I also have a video(which is fuckin' AWESOME), but am not savvy enough to figure out how to load it. So Jess got tossed and Mere and I laughed our asses off at her. She rules.

This was my birthday day. Weekend celebrations were most excellent... Friday night 6 of my favorite girlfriends took me to a Hibachi grill. The funniest part of that was the very asian guy with a heavy asian accent yelling "Who's your DADDY?" and smacking the steak with his spatula. Only to follow it up with "Say MY NAME! What's MY NAME?!" Freakin' hysterical.

So, 34 has been hard for me. I'm a very goal oriented person. Waiting is not easy for me. I've wanted a baby for as long as I can remember... I thought it would be easier for Mark and I than this... and I really had myself convinced I'd have a successful pregnancy by 34. I failed at this ridiculous goal. And, honestly, part of me feels like I've failed at marriage/life-in-general. When I stop and think about it logically I know better, so none of this "oh, Jenn don't be silly." bullshit, cause I know. Sometimes you can't help that internal voice. I'd yell "FUCK YOU"... but I'd just laugh at that cause it'd be funny.

As hard as 34 has been, I can honestly say this... this has been probably one of my very favorite birthdays. Maybe it's because I had no expectations or desires of fun or presents (though I got awesome diamond earrings from Mark and Mere bought my awesome dinner Friday night!!! ) or maybe it's because I'm getting over myself... who really knows. All I can say is it's been GREAT!!

If I can't sleep... you can't sleep!

This is apparently my husband's motto and we're about to battle over it.

Last night I was dosing off on the sofa... almost asleep.. he starts asking "honey are you sleepin'?" I grumbled my yes and then he decided it was a good idea to throw a dog toy (plastic football) at me... just to make sure. Now, I love my husband and I know he loves me, but this behavior? This is bullshit.

So I get up and stomp off, expressing my anger with a huffy silence, and he asks me what's wrong. I tell him he's a jackass and I'm sick of him being selfish and there's no purpose in him waking me up. He says "But I missed you." WTF-ever. No.

So tonight he was dosing off on the sofa and about every 15 minutes I'd ask him if he was hungry/thirsty/tired... whatever, just to keep him from sleeping. I'm a bitch, yes... but I don't care. Ok, I care. I don't want to that girl. I just want to sleep.

Another thing he does... he hates it when I go to bed before him. He can function on 5-6 hours of sleep, I cannot. I tell him this, I explain that I need 8-9 hours of sleep per night. He just doesn't believe me.

I'm not sure what else I can do to explain all this to him. I am considering knocking him out every night when I want to go to sleep... but what do I use? A bat? drugs? hypnosis?

Maybe I'll try them all and see which one works the fastest!

Sundays

Sundays are the very best day of the week. Except for the whole 'having to go to work' tomorrow part, they are the day I look forward to most.

This morning we woke up early, went to breakfast, then some shopping for our new room redo. We went to World Market and an antique shop. It was fun.

Then we came home and I took the very best nap I've ever had. Cooked dinner, watched a movie (The Heartbreak Kid... it was ok.) And now we're chillin'.

Sounds boring, I know... but it's been great. We did see an elephant statue at the World Market... that was probably the highlight of the day. Ha.

Only weird people yard sale... not sex offenders.

We went yard sellin' today. We didn't sell anything, but rode around looking to purchase another persons used garbage. We didn't buy much. I picked up a new photo album to make something for my mother-in-law for mother's day. And I picked up some curtains. They're sheer mossy green. I'm not sure if I'm going to use them as is, or play on my new sewing machine and make something crazy. (My definition of crazy = pillows or a quilt. What can I say, I'm wild.)

We didn't drive far, but I'm not sure that was a wise thing. Meeting your neighbors is not always a good idea. You find out that you've got some really WEIRD people living Right.Next.Door. Serious fruit loops... they're ten feet away from you.

We commented on the weirdness of our neighbors and my gf asks if we'd checked the sex offender's registry... Mark says, I don't care about those people, I just care about the creepy people.

So we commented that perhaps, by definition, sex offenders ARE creepy people. He didn't really have a response for that, but I'm pretty sure we're right.

Truth is we haven't checked the sex offenders registry... I'm not sure I want to know. I'd rather be surprised than worry over it. Honestly, knowing the peeps in my neighborhood are this weird is worry enough.